


Belligerence Aroused

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: One Shot, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-13
Updated: 2007-06-13
Packaged: 2019-01-19 03:12:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12401901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Beware of a woman scorned.  4th in my Seven Sins Series.  COMPLETE





	Belligerence Aroused

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

Belligerence Aroused

By:  AnndeeGranger

Rated: R  
Summary:  4th in my Seven Deadly Sins series.  Beware of a woman scorned.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

****_I love him. I don't care what all say._  
Nothing will change my mind, I warn you just stay away.  
If you try to hurt what I have.  
I swear a demon I'll arrive.  
Happy, I am you see.  
But if any try to hurt us evil I'll be.

**  
**

_Mine._ _Mine.  Mine._ __

_Mine.  Mine.  Mine._

__

_Mine.  Mine.  Mine.  Mine.  Mine.  Mine.  Mine.  Mine_.

Her once vibrant, now dull, brown eyes looked down at the sweater in her hands.  Her fingers tracing the H with deliberate care…  


 

**_Ire_ **

 

She pondered as she zipped up her black dress, as she descended the stairs to join her family, and as they traveled to the burial site _.  Why am I not angry about this?  My brother is dead and I don’t feel any anger. I don’t feel a thing._

She was even further puzzled when they reached the grave.  He had already been buried and the tombstone Harry had paid for had already been erected.  She felt nothing as she gazed at the name on the stone slab:  Ronald Weasley.

The service began as she stood between her mother and Fred.  She watched as the people around her began to sniffle, weep, and clench their jaws.  She felt no stinging in her eyes to indicate tears, or tension in her face.

She looked across the grave to where Harry and Hermione were standing.  She noticed that tears fell from eyes both brown and green, yet no sound escaped from either pair of lips.  Still, she felt nothing.

Her gaze trailed down and she noticed as their hands moved to twine together.

Her eyes narrowed and her heart pounded.  And, she finally began to feel. 

 

**_Strong, stern, or fierce anger_ **

 

__

Mine.  Mine.  Mine.  Mine.  Mine.  Mine.

__

Her heart beat heavy and fast in her chest as she made her way through the mourners who had assembled at the Burrow.  The heaviness grew as she made her way outside and silently crept to the back of the house.  It slowed as she stopped, partially hidden behind a bush.  It flat-lined as she watched Hermione being comforted by Harry.  Her lungs stopped working as she watched him lift the face of the bushy-haired girl gently by her chin and place a loving kiss upon her lips.

Her eyes narrowed; her heart began to beat again.  And, feeling returned once again.

 

****__

Forceful, often vindictive anger

__

  
 

__

She pondered as she zipped up her black dress, as she descended the stairs to join her family, and as they traveled to Grimmauld Place.  _Why am I not upset by this?  They have moved in together and I’m not upset.  I don’t feel a thing._

She was even further puzzled as she mingled with the other party-goers.  She watched them, carefully.  She saw the way his hand rarely left the small of Hermione’s back.  She watched the way her fingers played with the hair where his neck and scalp met.

Her gaze trailed down.  A simple emerald and diamond ring rested on the finger beside Hermione’s left pinky.

Her eyes narrowed and that feeling returned. 

 

_**Rage, resentment, fury, choler** _ __

__

 

____

_Mine.  Mine.  Mine.  Mine.  Mine.  Mine._   


__

Her heart beat weighty and quick as she silently made her way down the dark hall.  It grew as she heard the muffled moans and sighs.  It slowed as she slipped silently into the shadows of their room.  It stopped as she watched their bodies move.  Her lungs paused as Harry thrust into Hermione’s welcoming body, her legs wrapped possessively around his rear.

Her eyes narrowed; her heart began to beat again.  The feeling had never left.

 

**_Vengeance or punishment as the consequence of anger_ **

 

She pondered as she zipped up her blue dress, as she descended the stairs to join her family, and as they traveled to the church. _Why don’t I feel guilty?  He’s gone and I don’t feel guilty.  I feel nothing **.**_

She pondered as she zipped up her blue dress, as she descended the stairs to join her family, and as they traveled to the church. 

She was even further puzzled as she joined Hermione in the bridal chamber.  She watched as her own mother fussed over Hermione in the absences of the other girl’s mother.  She watched as her own father came in, he would be giving the bride away in the absence of Hermione’s father.

Her bewilderment intensified as they began the march down the aisle.  _Hasn’t anyone found him yet?  Hasn’t anyone noticed the groom is missing?_

Her bemusement clearly showed as she faltered at the end of the aisle. Harry was standing there in dress robes with a brilliant smile on his face.

Her eyes narrowed and that feeling returned. 

 

**_Deeply resentful indignation_ **

 

__

_Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. MINE._

__

Her heart thumped intense and swift in her chest as she made her way through the celebrators who had assembled at the reception.  The weight grew as she made her way outside to the gardens.  It slowed as she stopped, taking deep breaths.  It flat-lined and her eyes widened as pain seared through her body.

Falling to the ground she writhed and shook in agony.

The pain subsided as she lifted her head, her gaze traveling up a dress of white and stopping when they met brown eyes flashing with rage as the owner of those eyes lifted her wand.

Her puzzlement continued as Hermione said something about knowing what she had tried to do to Harry last night and what she had done to her parents months before.  Her confusion lost as another torturous curse wracked her slender form.

Her blue dress began to turn red as Hermione hurled a curse she had learned in sixth year but had never used.

She heard the distinct sound of heels coming closer and closer to her prone body as it lay on the ground, surrounded by flowers, grass, and blood.  She felt the tip of Hermione’s wand press into her heart before she saw the brown-haired woman lean over her and whisper a curse she had never heard before.

Her eyes narrowed; her heart slowed.  The feeling was gone.

 

**_Wrath:  Divine retribution for sin_ **

 

She pondered as they placed the straightjacket around her, as she descended the stairs to see her family in tears, and as the orderlies transported her to St. Mungo’s. _Why don’t I feel the pain?  I’ve lost everything and I don’t feel any pain.  I feel nothing…I feel nothing._

She pondered as they placed the straightjacket around her, as she descended the stairs to see her family in tears, and as the orderlies transported her to St. Mungo’s. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

AN:  Thanks to my beta, LadyStarlight

AN2:  The poem is by Melissa Killough and is called “The Wrath of a Woman in Love”.

 


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